Testify To the Light

Third Sunday of Advent – Cycle B

Isaiah 61:1-2A, 10-11; Thessalonians 5:16-24;

John 1:6-8, 19-28

John was not the light. He came to testify to the light. I never really understood the importance of testifying to the light. The sun rises in the sky.Everyone can see the light. Everyone can feel the warmth. Why is there a need to testify to it? I saw Jesus in the same way. I thought that a few minutes in his presence, and anyone would know who he was. His divinity could not possibly escape notice. So John’s testimony seemed to me to be

almost unnecessary.

One day I asked a priest about this. His answer opened my eyes a bit. He told me that as important as Christmas is to the church, only two of the four gospel writers even felt the need to speak about the birth of Jesus. Yet all of the gospels talk of John the Baptist testifying to the light. Obviously, I was missing something. Then this past summer, I gained a deeper respect for John and his role.

Everyone recalls what happened to Louisville this past August when the remnants of the hurricane blew through town. Most of Louisville was plunged into darkness for an extended period of time. Electricity is a funny thing. You never notice it until it’s gone. A few hours without power is a nuisance. A couple of days without power is a major inconvenience. A

week or more, and we’re talking some serious stuff. I can see it in your faces. When the power was finally restored in your area, I’ll bet there was some testimony to the light in your homes. Then I began to realize something. Christ, the light of the world, had been promised for over 1000 years. Imagine a thousand years of calling LG&E and hearing “please be patient, there is a truck in your area, we’re doing the best that we can.” So they waited for 1000 years. And when John saw Jesus – saw the heavens open up at his baptism, John could not have held back if he wanted to. The testimony had to come out.

John was the first in a very long line of testifiers to the light. He was soon followed by Peter and the apostles, Mary and Martha, Mary Magdalene, the woman at the well, the Roman soldier at the foot of the cross. Later came Stephen, Paul, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – all testifying to the light.

I did some rough calculations the other day. My grandfather was born in 1906, my father in 1932. I was born in 1963 and both of my sons were born in the early 1990’s. That’s four generations of Diemers born in the span of about 100 years. If you accept my figures as the average, there have been about 80 generations of people walking the earth and testifying to the light since the time of Christ. 80 generations finding new ways to honor and serve our Lord through prayer, through example, through writing, through art and music. 80 generations!

And now it’s our turn.

• Testify to the light in the way that you raise and teach your children.

• Testify to the light in the reverence you show at the Lord’s table. 

• Testify to the light by becoming a priest. 

• Testify to the light in the way you treat your neighbor. 

• Testify to the light by forgiving those who trespass against us.

• Testify to the light by providing heath care to everyone who needs it.

• Testify to the light by clothing the naked, feeding the poor, visiting the sick and imprisoned. 

• Testify to the light by holding all life sacred. 

• Testify to the light by ending the war. 

If we truly see the light, if we truly comprehend its meaning, how can we not? 

How can we not?

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer
3rd Sunday of Advent
December 14, 2008

Change

Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome

Ezekiel 47:1-2, 8-9, 12 / 1 Corinthians 3:9c-11, 16-17

John 2:13-22

Today’s gospel passage is one of the most misunderstood stories in the Bible. Jesus goes to Jerusalem and forces the merchants to leave the temple area. He overturns the moneychangers’ table and drives the livestock into the street. Clearly Jesus is angry because the merchants are operating within God’s house – right? Not so fast. These salespeople were providing a valuable service for the Jewish people. It was against the law to offer coins with the image of the Roman Emperior’s face. So the moneychangers were necessary. It was the same with the merchants. They were selling animals that were required for the temple sacrifice. This was nothing new. Jesus grew up seeing these people in the temple area and he knew full well what their purpose was. So why did Jesus react the way he did? We need to delve a little deeper into the story.

Jesus goes on to justify his actions to the people. “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews could not have understood Christ’s response that day. They didn’t know that Jesus was about to become the sacrificial lamb – to die for their sins. They didn’t know that their world was about to change. The Gospel writer was able to look back on the events of that day and show us a different perspective. From John’s perspective, Jesus was saying that this form of worship was outdated. It had become obsolete. He himself was to become the sacrifice for all of us. He was not preaching repentance; he was preaching change – radical change – that with his death and resurrection, the world would be forever transformed. And the people of God, not just the Jews, but ALL of us would reap the benefits of this transformation.

What kind of changes was Jesus proposing for each of us? Does our world need to change? Does our church need to change? Before we can answer those questions, we must first answer a more basic question – Do our hearts need to change?

We must first transform ourselves. Paul tells us that we are the temple of the Lord. From the waters of baptism, we are marked as followers of Christ. Ezekiel paints a glorious picture for us in today’s first reading. He speaks of the temple on the hill with water trickling from beneath its doors. The grace that we receive from our baptism cannot be contained. Goodness springs forth from the temple and flows into the valley, refreshing and nurturing all those that we encounter.

But does baptism really work that way? Are we better persons because we have been baptized, or must we take a more active role? I want to be a good Christian. But sometimes I lack the motivation. Then one day about six years ago, I found inspiration in the words of a very unlikely source – my cousin Bobby.

My cousin was not what I would call a religious man. He went to church on Sunday and raised his children in the Catholic faith. But I never heard him speak of God or religion outside of church. He enjoyed camping and loved to play cards. He was not the person that I would have gone to with a deeply religious question. A few years ago, the two of us were riding together in a truck. Bobby had worked for the railroad, and was talking about his days on the train. I asked him what he thought about when he was alone on the train for hours at a time. His answer surprised me. “I wondered if I have been a good enough Catholic. I wondered if my words had influenced anyone to join the church.” Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I never would have expected him to say something like that. 

 

Bobby’s words on that day inspired me. He made me want more. He changed my heart. He ignited a flame in me that continues to burn today. It probably was not his intention. He passed away before I got the chance to thank him. He never knew the effect that his words had on me. But it was those words, more than any other, that put me on the path to this ambo and this vocation.

There is a deeper spiritual relationship out there for each of us. Knowing where to find it can at times be difficult. Sometimes, when we do the same things again and again, they become routine. For adults, the mass and in particular, the Eucharist can become commonplace. We come to church. We listen to the priest. We sometimes sing along with the choir. We stand. We kneel. We line up and receive the Eucharist and we return to our hum drum lives. We forget the mystery and the power. We lose the wonder. We overlook the significance. 

 

Today, let’s try and recapture that moment; to come to communion with the same wonder and awe that we had on that special day. If we truly reflect on what we are receiving, how can we not be motivated? By accepting the body and blood of Christ, we are transforming ourselves into the tabernacle. We become the temple of the Lord. God dwells within each of us. We change our hearts.

That is where we begin. Once we have changed, we begin to change others as well. As Ezekiel said, the seawater is made fresh. We change the world with our faith. We change the world with our works. We change the world with our love.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer
Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome
November 9, 2008

The Marketplace

25^th Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year A

Isaiah 55:6-9;  Philippians 1: 20c-24, 27a

Matthew 20: 1-16a
 

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of the folks here at St. Gabriel parish. The kindness that you have shown to me and my family has been overwhelming. Thanks especially to Father John and Father Jim for going out of their ways to make us feel welcome. Thanks!

In the year that I have been a part of the St. Gabriel community, I have been particularly impressed by the way that this parish welcomes its new members. You embrace them and make them feel comfortable and at ease. Your hospitality is second to none.

When I look at the St. Gabriel community, I can’t help but think of one particular image from today’s gospel – the marketplace. Think about it a minute. In any community, the marketplace is where everyone gathers. Some come to the marketplace to sell food or other goods – they earn their living in the marketplace. Some come to the marketplace to purchase groceries and other items – they sustain their families through the marketplace. Others come to socialize and catch up on the news from the neighborhood – to see and to be seen. And some come simply because they have nowhere else to go.

For all of us, St. Gabriel serves as our marketplace. We come here to pray. We come here to relax and to socialize. We come here to learn. We come here to play sports. We come here to meet with others who share a common interest. But most importantly, we come here to worship. For some of us, this community is at the very heart of our lives. For others, it’s just a nice place to enjoy the mass. Whatever your reason for being here today, we the community of St. Gabriel hope that your needs are being met and your expectations are being exceeded.

Jesus said that where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. I know that it sounds a little like a Kevin Costner movie but if you build it, they will come. And so this marketplace that we call St. Gabriel has been built up and is sustained by its membership. Some have been here from the very beginning in 1953. Others like me are new on the scene. But whether you have been here for twenty years or twenty minutes, there is one undeniable fact about St. Gabriel parish:  God comes to us here. He comes to us here in the Good News proclaimed from this ambo. Jesus comes to us, not symbolically, but in true flesh and true blood in the Eucharist. The Holy Spirit comes to us in the sacraments that we celebrate, like the baptisms we will have shortly. He comes to us as we comfort our sick.  He comes to us as we memorialize our dead. God comes to us here.

Today’s Gospel reminds us though that while the marketplace is important, there is still work to be done in the vineyards. God doesn’t call us to the marketplace. We come here by our own choice and out of our own needs. God calls each of us to leave the marketplace behind. When God comes to us here, it is with an invitation to join him in the harvest. I know that sometimes life is too hectic. I know that sometimes we are too busy or too tired to think about that right now. But God keeps coming to us. If you can’t go at seven, He’ll be back at nine to ask again. He’ll be back at noon to ask again. For the harvest needs all of us and salvation awaits all who answer the call.

Deacon Darryl J. Diemer

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

September 21, 2008

(My first homily)